


The Rest is Still Unwritten

by DragonBread



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pon Farr, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBread/pseuds/DragonBread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where humans have the last words their soulmate will say to them written on their skin, Jim Kirk has two sets of words—or, rather, one set of words with a sort of...echo. It isn't until a long time after he meets his soulmate that he understands why.</p>
<p>(based on <a href="http://deyrbnogardi.co.vu/post/121895132226/sincereglomp-aceofultron-soulmate-au-where">this post</a> on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest is Still Unwritten

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing for this fandom and I haven't written anything for awhile, so go easy on me, please. Any mistakes are my own, sadly the characters are not.

Jim always wondered why he had two sets of words written on his skin; almost everyone was born with the last sentence their soulmate would say to them written onto their flesh. Rarely, someone had none. Occasionally, like him, someone would have two. The strange thing about Jim’s words wasn’t exactly that there were two sentences, but actually that the same sentence was there twice, overlapping itself like one of those 3-D shadow text effects, once in black and once again in gray. In identical lettering. So either Jim had two soulmates with the same exact penmanship, or his soulmate was going to say their last words twice.

The phrase itself was common enough, especially on Vulcan—perhaps this strange soulmate would be a scholar of Vulcan society, and commonly said farewell in such a manner. Jim certainly spent more time investing in their culture than another human might, so perhaps the phrase would become like a joke between them. He didn’t consider the fact that the speaker of the words might themselves be Vulcan until much later in his life, and by then the puzzle of the strangely echoed words was no more a pressing matter than why his friend Keith had had “Chicken nuggets!” or why Madeleine Stratovsky simply had an exclamation point. The words would make sense in the end, sometimes you lived long enough to understand, sometimes you didn’t.

Besides, in other cultures—where body art was a decorative decision—they would have made a nice tattoo. “Live long and prosper”, wrapped around his left bicep. In fact, he had once convinced a Caitian girl that he actually was a Brenari with a very subtle nose ridge while at the academy, but that was neither here nor there. He liked the words, he tried not to wonder about them, and he got on with his life.

Becoming the youngest captain in Starfleet history meant sacrificing a lot of things, including a number of promising relationships. But somehow he couldn’t see any of the girls he dated growing up to be the sort to use such a formal farewell, and he couldn’t imagine any of the guys having such graceful handwriting. Besides, he didn’t plan to settle down until after many years of exploring the galaxy and there would be plenty of time later.

“Welcome aboard, Captain,” a voice said as he stepped onto the bridge of his new ship, and Jim did a double take. Meeting the gaze of his Vulcan first officer was like putting his finger into an electrical conduit.

“At ease,” he managed, shutting the feeling down as best he could. Vulcans didn’t have soulmates the way humans did, and no one knew much about their mating practices anyway. There was no chance that this man could be his soulmate.

It wasn’t until a year and a half later, when an unknown corrosive substance had the two of them crowding into a decontamination shower together that Jim saw the small “No…” written in his own handwriting on Spock’s thigh.

At first, nothing changed. Some soulmates weren’t lovers at all, merely very close friends, and for a while it looked like that was where their relationship was headed. He didn’t mention it to Spock, and Spock didn’t bring it up to him, although he was sure that the other man must have seen the words at one point or another, and he was more than smart enough to make the connection. How curious that his first’s half human heritage had given him a soulmark, and how curious that his fully human mother should have married a Vulcan. Though Jim had no way of knowing what words she did or did not have, and he could hardly ask. Soulmates were private things, and Vulcans were incredibly private to begin with. Jim had studied them after all, and one of the first things he learned was that there wasn’t a lot that a human was allowed to learn. Vulcan mating was, of course, a topic of much debate, but all that was really known was that they didn’t have soulmarks but they did seem to mate for life. Telepathic bonds were theorized, as it was a known fact that Vulcans were touch telepaths.

Spock’s Pon Farr, his time of mating, set in around the two year mark of their voyage, and Jim found out the answer to a number of those questions. After beaming back from the planet and being reunited with the newly unattached Spock, however, he found out even more.

“Enter,” he said as the door to his quarters chimed. He’d assumed Spock would want to come and talk to him after everything that had happened that day, and it was, indeed, Spock who entered.

“Jim,” he said, looking at his hands. “I must apologize for my behavior towards you.”

“You weren’t yourself, Spock, you can hardly be blamed for what happened today.” Jim set down his Padd went to stand next to his friend.

“You misunderstand; it is not merely my behavior today that I must apologize for.” Spock looked up, meeting his eyes, and Jim saw a world of sadness there. “I have, for some time, been aware that we are what is known on your planet as ‘soulmates’ and have only recently come to recognize that we share the Vulcan bond of t’hy’la as well. I have been bound to another for a portion of this time and I deeply regret any pain this has caused you. I am…sorry, Jim.”

Jim put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Spock. I don’t know what this ‘t’hy’la’ thing is, but I’ve known about the soulmates thing for a while too, and I didn’t do anything.”

“The t’hy’la bond is the deepest naturally occurring bond that exists for a Vulcan. It means friend, brother, and lover all as one, and is our closest approximation of your ‘soulmates’. I had sought to deny this in myself, not understanding its true nature. In fact, I did not fully understand until today, as only the maturation of a telepathic bond can terminate the symptoms of a first Pon Farr.”

Jim took a second to process this. “So, wait—are you telling me _we’re_ married?”

“By Vulcan law, yes.” Spock looked down again. “Again, I apologize for—”

“Apologize for what? You yourself said you didn’t know, and I would’ve done everything I could to save your life either way.”

“Yes, but, now that the bond has reached maturity, you will no longer be free to pursue…certain activities. I understand that it is your wont to…entertain a certain kind of company, and while I endeavor to be supportive, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to...retain emotional control.”

Jim blinked. What was Spock even saying? Emotional control? Company? Oh. OH. “You mean you don’t want me having sex with other people?”

Spock nodded minutely. “Again, I apologize, and the bond should eventually settle such that I can shield myself from you. I do not wish to deny you what is for humans a healthy outlet—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Spock. I’m not going to…mind rape you, or whatever. I’ve gone without sex before—the rest of my life is a long time, but I’m sure I can find other ‘healthy outlets’ and I can always…take care of myself…if I need to.”

“I would not ask you to be celibate for the rest of your life. In fact, such a thing would be…challenging, as I will again enter Pon Farr in approximately seven years’ time, and resolution of that time will necessitate further intimacy between us.”

Jim blinked again, slowly, and tilted Spock’s face up so he couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Are you saying we’ll have to have sex?”

Spock, unable to move his head, closed his eyes. “I would not force you in this. When the time is imminent, I can separate myself from you. You will only be minimally affected, and because of my hybrid physiology, there is a chance I would survive.”

Jim dropped his hands and took an abrupt step back, his sudden anger startling him. “Spock. I’ve already said I would do anything I could to save your life, I’m hardly going to let you throw your life away just because it’d be weird for us to have sex—unless having sex with me is so distasteful you’d rather die? Because if that’s the case then you probably want to get the fuck out of my quarters.”

Spock opened his eyes and raised a wry eyebrow. “The prospect is hardly…distasteful, Jim. I merely intended to reassure you that under no circumstances would I force you into such an act.”

Jim felt his anger dissipate as quickly as it had arrived, and a tiny smile came to his lips. “Hardly distasteful, eh? Coming from you, that’s practically ‘I’d like to jump you right now’.”

The eyebrow climbed higher, and Spock inclined his head.

Jim took another step back, his mouth falling open. “Wait. You—oh my god. I’m sorry, Spock, this is just...a lot to process, and I died today. Well, not really. But. I need you to be clear, here. Are you saying that if I wanted to have sex with you right now, you would not only agree but be…enthused?”

“Indeed. If I have made you uncomfortable, I must again apologize. I am fully capable of maintaining a more professional relationship, if that is what you desire, and I want you to feel in no way pressured into any alteration in our day to day—mmph”

 Jim had taken three quick steps forward and put his hand over Spock’s mouth. “Spock. So, if I did this”—he moved his hand and leaned in so that their lips were just touching—“that would be okay with you?”

In lieu of an answer, Spock surged forward into the tentative contact, lips pressing forward, clumsy in their eagerness. Jim responded as best as he could, arms coming up around Spock’s back, gasping into the kiss as Spock went practically boneless against him. It only lasted a few seconds, but there was a fire in Spock’s eyes when he pulled away that made Jim’s stomach tighten hungrily.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jim grinned. “God, Spock, I’ve wanted you for so long, do you have any idea?”

“Yes,” Spock said, and the gravelly tone of his voice went straight to Jim’s groin. “I, too, have long desired you physically as well as mentally.”

“Well, you’ve got me. Till death do us part, and all that.” Jim’s smile turned soft, and he brought up a hand to cup Spock’s face. The way the Vulcan nuzzled into it was incredibly gratifying. “I love you, I hope you know that.”

“We are t’hy’la,” Spock said. “I can love no other and I cannot but love you, _ashayam_. I would be one with you in all ways.”

 “Sounds good to me,” Jim said, leaning in to kiss him again.

****

It would be many years many experiences before Jim’s tattoo made sense, and it didn’t happen the way either of them would have expected. Jim heard Bones’s voice from engineering telling him to hurry, and he flew out of his seat. He’d never made better time to engineering, and there, his worst fears were confirmed. _Spock_. The other half of his soul, bearer of his heart, dying in a radiation flooded chamber, where he couldn’t even touch him one last time. And of course his final words would be just as they were printed on Jim’s arm. “I have been, and always shall be, your friend,” Spock croaked, barely able to force the words out of his irradiated throat. “Live long, and prosper.”

The “no” was out of Jim’s mouth before he could stop it. He would not live long or prosper. Half of him lay dead on the floor of that radiation chamber.

****

Of course, Spock went on to live again. After his memories had returned fully, Jim joked about how he figured his weird double word mystery had been solved. As for Spock’s soulmark, he now had “You too” scrawled where the no had been…with a faded shadow.

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to leave it open for the new movies with Spock's mark, because since he goes to the alternate reality theoretically he has two more sets of last words with Jim as well (and Jim and Spock in that universe would both have two sets of words, Jim b/c of the two Spocks, Spock b/c of Jim dying and coming back).
> 
> Please comment if you think something could be improved, and try not to take this too seriously! I post a ton of Star trek on my [tumblr](http://deyrbnogardi.co.vu), if you'd like to take a look or give me feedback there. Thanks for reading!


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